


Midnight Feast

by butterflycell



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Baking, Fluff, M/M, all things good and wholesome, bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflycell/pseuds/butterflycell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a small sigh, Charles trudged across the foyer and headed towards the kitchen. He could hear muttering, and things knocking into each other and, when he finally shuffled into the kitchen, all he could do was frown. He folded his arms, leaning against the door frame as he tried to take in the sight before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Feast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luvinjrandsmoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luvinjrandsmoke/gifts).



> This is 100% inspired by the wonderful luvinjrandsmoke. She bakes delicious little treat things and asked for something about this a while ago - I made the effort to finish up and post because she's having a stressful time atm. I hope you like this, hun!

It was the middle of the night. The middle of the sodding-- well, it more like the very beginning of the morning. Half past two to be precise. It was half past two and Charles had no idea why he'd woken up.  
  
He rolled over, tugging the duvet up around his shoulders and buried his face into the pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force himself back to sleep. He sighed and went through the motions of clearing his mind. He shifted in his cocoon, trying to get comfortable. It took him a few moments to realise he was alone.  
  
He cracked an eye open, looking blearily around himself. Bedroom, check: bed, check; pillows, check; the rest of the house fast asleep, check; Erik... He kicked a foot out of the covers and found dead space next to him. With a groan, he turned over and let his head flop back against the pillow, surveying the very clearly empty half of the bed next to him. He reached out and pressed a hand to the sheets.  
  
Erik must've been awake for a while – there was only the barest hint of body heat left. He sighed again and turned his face back into the pillow. He so badly just wanted to go back to sleep, but by noticing Erik's absence, he'd jerked himself fully awake. He propped himself up on an elbow and rubbed a hand over his face. It only took a moment to quest out across the house, brushing against the sleeping and dreaming minds in the other bedrooms, pushing further until he found the bright, alive mind that buzzed with wakefulness.  
  
He pulled back immediately and pushed himself up and out of bed, snagging a t-shirt and a pair of woolly socks from the floor. He tugged them on, hopping for a few steps as he struggled into the socks, before making his way out of the room. He walked quietly down the corridor, instinctively avoiding all the old and creaking floorboards.  
  
His mind wandered a little as he walked, remembering times when he's crept through the house under very different conditions. It wasn't too bad to be in search of a wayward lover.  
  
He managed to cross the corridor with minimal noise, but the main staircase was a different ball game. It was an assault course of centuries old floorboards and long since settled foundations. He eased himself down the wall for a few steps, moving into the middle for the next and over to the bannister for the next few. He moved slowly, navigating every step successfully – only to be caught out on the second from last, standing right on the weak spot.  
  
The noise that rent the air made Charles cringe and he deftly jumped the last steps to safely. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd been determined to go silently, but that step had been his downfall for as long as he could remember. With a small sigh, he trudged across the foyer and headed towards the kitchen.  
  
He could hear muttering, things knocking into each other and, when he finally shuffled into the kitchen, all he could do was frown. He folded his arms, leaning against the door frame as he tried to take in the sight before him.  
  
Erik was in his pyjamas, standing at the counter with maybe the entire contents of at least one cupboard spread out around him. He seemed to be particularly focussed on the snapping of chocolate into a bowl in front of him. He was measuring things out, doing three different ingredients at one time, levitating spoons and forks around him in a chaotic kind of dance.  
  
“If you're awake, you may as well help me.” He said, a little brusque from concentrating. Charles smiled.  
  
“It looks like you're doing rather well on your own.” He replied, but he grabbed an apron from the hook on the back of the door anyway. He crossed the room and folded the apron in half, slinging it around Erik's waist and tying it off firmly. Erik made a little noise of protest, but he covered it well. “Can I ask what you're making?”  
  
“It was something Sean was talking about...” Erik said distractedly. Charles moved to one side and rested back against the counter, arms crossed.  
  
“You're... _baking_ in the middle of the night because of something _Sean_ said.” He didn't pose it as a question – merely an extremely perturbed sentence.  
  
“He couldn't decide what to eat and went off on a tangent about brownies and cookies.” Erik waved a hand vaguely in the air before shoving the bowl of chocolate in the microwave and setting it going. A spoon was already beginning to stir together the dry ingredients and he turned to work on cracking open the eggs.  
  
“Is that what the Oreos are for?” Charles asked, reaching out and snagging the packet from the counter. Erik nodded slightly, turning to watch the microwave count down as a fork took up the job of whisking the eggs. “Dare I ask how they bear any relation to brownies?”  
  
“You dip them in the mix, then put them in the oven.” Erik glanced over his shoulder, giving him a look that very clearly told Charles that it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.  
  
Charles opened his mouth a couple of times, trying to think of some way to reply to that. Nothing immediately came to mind, so instead he settled back to watch Erik work. It was like a tiny maelstrom, confined to his corner of the kitchen. Utensils were still flying everywhere, the air in the room growing closer as the oven heated to temperature and the smell of chocolate was thick. Charles couldn't help his stomach from making its presence known.  
  
Erik looked over with a lopsided grin and Charles scowled in return. For the first time since he'd come into the kitchen, Erik pulled himself away from his cooking and closed the distance between them. He planted his hands on the counter on either side of Charles and leaned down a little, smile still firmly in place. Charles just rolled his eyes.  
  
“Lets just get them in the oven so we can go back to bed.” He pushed at Erik, palms flat on his chest, but he didn't yield. Charles smiled again and closed the gap between them, kissing him gently, biting at his bottom lip. Erik leant into it, clearly determined to take the upper hand – whatever that consisted of in this situation – but Charles used the distraction to push him back and dodge sideways. “So, what can I do?”  
  
Erik levelled a stern look at him for a moment before shaking his head slightly, most likely to himself, and went back to the ingredients, pouring them all together and stirring the mix until it became a batter. “Set out the cases in the trays.”  
  
He tossed a box of paper cupcake liners over his shoulder and Charles just about managed to catch them without fumbling too badly, setting about filling the cupcakes trays in a smooth, easy rhythm. Erik moved next to him, their shoulders brushing as he began spooning small amounts into the bottom of each case. Once they were all done, he began dipping the Oreos and dropping them into their individual cases, not caring that he was coating his fingers as much as the cookies.  
  
Charles watched, amused, as Erik manipulated a spoon to meticulously distribute the remaining batter over the top of each cookie before opening the oven door and floating they cupcake trays inside. He let the door snap closed and turned to Charles with a satisfied grin.  
  
“Now, tell me,” Charles took a few steps forward, taking hold of Erik's hand loosely, “why did you feel the need to try this out in the middle of the night?”  
  
“It was bothering me.” Erik said simply, meeting his eyes with an amused smirk. He raised the hand Charles was holding and licked the batter off his thumb. He made a noise of approval and Charles couldn't help himself. He pulled Erik closer, feeling an arm settle around his waist, and pulled Erik's hand to his mouth.  
  
He worked slowly, getting every last scrap of brownie mix from Erik's skin before he let go and Erik pulled him into another kiss. He tasted of the batter and himself and Charles leant into it, curling his fingers into Erik's t-shirt and holding him close. It was slow and leisurely, with absolutely nothing worrying at the edges of his mind. Everyone was asleep, there was no imminent danger from outside and there were some strange but probably delicious concoctions in the oven.  
  
Charles would quite easily have lost track of time completely, Oreo-brownies be damned, but they were jerked – rather unceremoniously – from an increasingly heated kiss by the obnoxious buzzing of the timer. Erik groaned loudly and pulled away, breaking the kiss only for the time it took to concentrate on snapping the oven open and pulling the trays out without having to let Charles go. Sometimes the ability to manipulate metal proved rather useful.  
  
He leaned back in, trying to pick up when he left off when Charles put a hand over his mouth, stopping him in his tracks and earning himself a rather bemused expression.  
  
“You have to take them out of the tray, so they cool down.” Charles said by way of explanation.  
  
“You're no fun.” Erik said darkly, pulling away reluctantly and turning back to the counter. He took care of the brownies in his normal, efficient manner. Charles was about to say something else when Erik spun around and shoved something warm, sweet and chocolatey into his mouth.  
  
He bit down from the shock but was met a texture and flavour that he really hadn't expected to come from one of Sean's pot-induced hazes. Charles frowned as he watched Erik try one, taking a bite and raising his eyebrows as he glanced down with a nod of approval. “These are pretty good.”  
  
Charles nodded slightly and swallowed. “My God... and you say Sean thought these up?”  
  
He frowned and crossed to the fridge, pulling out the milk and taking a long drink, balancing out the flavours and cutting through the lingering sweetness. Erik moved over to him and took the carton easily, knocking back a gulp himself.  
  
“I wouldn't say he thought them up. It's more like he started expounding on the greatness of what would happen if cookies and brownies got together and blazed up without protection.” Erik smirked and Charles couldn't help but laugh in mild disbelief.  
  
Erik leaned forwards and kissed him again, happy and easy and slow. It was indulgent and tasted alot of chocolate and milk. He pulled Charles tight against him and Charles sighed against the kiss, hands moving to hold Erik's head in place. He ran his thumbs over slightly stubbly cheeks and smiled.  
  
“We should just put them in the fridge to cool down, the bedroom is calling.” He murmured, pulling away just enough. Erik hummed his approval, but pulled Charles back in for a final kiss.  
  
Charles pushed him firmly away, managing to stay free long enough to put all the baked goods into a metal container, which Erik promptly took under his control. The box was snatched from Charles' hands and flew into the fridge, the door snapping closed just behind it.  
  
“You mentioned something about bed.” Erik said easily, pulling Charles to him again. He nodded and found Erik's hands winding it's way into his, fingers linking together.  
  
Erik tugged him across the room, flicking off the light as they left. Charles pressed into his side, falling into step as the headed back through the house towards the staircase. Charles was about to warn him to be careful, but as he began picking his way up the steps, Charles realised that he'd learnt all the tricks. They reached the top without triggering a single noise of protest.  
  
He thought on that the whole way back to the bedroom, still smiling slightly as Erik tugged him down and forcibly wrapped them up in the duvet, arms folded possessively around him. It wasn't until Charles picked up on ripples of vague consternation that he met Erik's eyes. He was frowning slightly and Charles pressed a hand firmly to his chest.  
  
 _Everything's fine, it's good. Get some sleep_. He pressed the thought towards Erik and leaned forwards, pulling him into another slow, loving kiss. He felt a lazy thrill run down his spine as Erik's hands settled on his hips, pulling them together just a little. Charles sighed and broke away, perfectly content to let sleep wash back over him. If Erik's half-formed thoughts were anything to go by, he was too. He spared just enough energy to smile at the now familiar touch of Erik's mind, and slowly drifted off.  
  
\--  
  
The next morning, Charles was woken sharply by a yell of intense irritation – part actual noise, part mental scream. He took a moment to get his bearings, to realise the bed next to him was still mostly warm and that it was still early in the day.  
  
 _“Sean!”_ Erik was in the kitchen and, if the hazy thoughts he was sensing were anything to go by, so was Sean – and Sean had been up for a little while already.  
  
 _“Hey, man, they were my idea in the first place!”_ Charles made a mental note to have a conversation about the boy's smoking habit. First thing in the morning was hardly an appropriate time for such activities.  
  
 _“You ate them_ all _.”_ The deep, seething anger from Erik was mildly hilarious. Charles laughed gently to himself and rolled back over, sending out a thought to Erik that would, hopefully, distract him from the loss of his brownies.


End file.
